


Drawings of Her

by DancingWithWildWolves



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Depression, Eating Disorder, Modern AU, Sad, Self Harm, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 05:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1497778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingWithWildWolves/pseuds/DancingWithWildWolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Drabble about R watching Enjolras. Also about eating disorders and depression.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drawings of Her

**Author's Note:**

> Salutations,  
> I just wanted to say that this work may be triggering and I don't want to cause any pain. If mentioned eating disorders, self harm, suicide and depression are going to cause you to spiral, please don't read this.  
> Thanks,  
> DancingWithWildWolves

I can't draw anymore. I end up with drawings of her. Drawings of pointe shoes soaked in blood. Drawings of empty plates, bones and a toilet bowl. Drawings of razors. Drawings of the things I'd rather forget.  
That dancer, the one with the curly blond hair, he has no idea how lucky he is. He's alive and he has people that make him happy around him. His arms might be covered in those raised scars I recognise so well, the ones from when she'd roll up her sleeves and paint with me, but he is alive. He's lived until his early twenties, she didn't make it past fourteen.  
And I'm sure if you pulled up his shirt, like I used to do when I tickled her, you could count his ribs and run your fingers through the chasms they create in the landscape of his chest.  
I can see the behaviours, it's like seeing a ghost.  
I can almost hear the mantra she used to whisper.  
Don't eat, don't eat, thin, light, pretty. Don't eat, don't eat. Silver, pain, blood, razor, calm. Don't eat, don't sleep, don't be like the others. Dream, achieve.  
I can see that mantra, find myself writing it down. I find myself whispering it like a lullaby or a prayer. The only thing I have left of her, a mantra of pain and destruction.  
I wanted to help her, I want to stop him from becoming her. I need to stop myself from becoming her.  
I can't.  
-  
I need her, I need my big sister.


End file.
